


Smoke and Fire

by SassySnowperson



Category: Original Work
Genre: Age Difference, Enemies With Deep Respect for Each Other, M/M, Opposing Philosophies on How to Do Good, Superheroes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-24
Updated: 2021-01-24
Packaged: 2021-03-15 23:42:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28946859
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SassySnowperson/pseuds/SassySnowperson
Summary: Of all the villains and heroes that dotted the landscape of New Polis, Smokeshade was the one that cared the most about collateral damage.
Relationships: Experienced Police Officer/Up and Coming Supervillain, Original Male Character/Original Male Character
Comments: 16
Kudos: 33
Collections: Bulletproof 20/21





	Smoke and Fire

**Author's Note:**

  * For [psychomachia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/psychomachia/gifts).



> Written for psychomachia for the Bulletproof 20/21 exchange, based on the prompt "Rivals/enemies with significant age gaps and deep respect for each other."

It was a good thing Matthew hadn't been planning on retiring anytime soon. Twenty years with the New Polis Police Department next Tuesday, just about time for him to cut and run with a decent pension, if he was the sort. If he had decided to retire, this would have been a cliched tragedy—cop killed dramatically days before retirement. 

Instead this was just a tired workhorse meeting his end. 

The villain of the week—an out of towner, overblown with a fire motif—had some sort of napalm gun levelled at his head. "I know you have a police override. Tell me the codes!" he snarled, looking from Matthew to the locked door behind him, where the wealthy family had themselves shut up in their safe room, crying mother and two little girls. Matthew had stalled Flame Guy (not his actual villainous name, Matthew didn't care) long enough to get them enough time to shut the door. And that was all he could do. 

"I'll see you in hell," Matthew snarled. Wasn't a bad last line, as far as those things went. Maybe a little cliched, but what could you do? He faced down the gun and waited for the heat to come. 

"Oh, darling," a bright voice chimed, "what sort of a pickle have you gotten yourself into!" 

"Who dares intrude—" Flame Guy swung his head away from Matthew for a second, and fuck it, if he was going down, he was going down fighting. He dodged left and tackled Flame Guy's midsection. But there was a whoosh, a grey blur, and his arms closed around empty air. 

On the other end of the room, a window shattered, and there was nothing but screams as a grey and orange blur flung itself out the window. Flame Guy screamed on the way down. 

"Stay in there," Matthew ordered, because the safe room probably had an intercom, and limped his way over to the window. There was an orange smear on the sidewalk, and Flame Guy wasn't moving. No sign of grey. 

"Terribly clumsy, that one," that bright voice said, softly whispered into Matthew's ear. Matthew didn't jump. He was used to it by now. He just slowly turned, glaring at the grey form behind him. 

"Smokeshade," Matthew said, trying to keep the crashing terror of death and the adrenaline of _life_ out of his voice. "What are you doing here?" 

"Oh, you know what they say, where there's fire, there's Smoke!" The figure flung up an arm in triumph. The edges of his fingertips shimmered, moving so fast they looked like nothing so much as campfire smoke. 

"Pretty sure that's the other way around," Matthew said, looking down. "You had beef with him?" 

"Yes," Smokeshade said, seriously. He took a step in and grabbed Matthew's chin, forcing Matthew to look at him. "He was about to kill you." 

"You've tried to kill me, more than once," Matthew pointed out, half wondering if he was about to follow Flame Guy out the window. 

"Exactly," Smokeshade said. "You're mine to kill, darling. Nobody gets to hurt you except for me." 

Matthew felt something shiver in his chest as he looked at the serious dark grey eyes. The same color as Smokeshade's uniform. Matthew had always privately found it a compelling touch. Shoving that thought back to his hindbrain where it belonged, he asked, "So is that what's going down today?" 

Smokeshade's grey eyes rolled. He released Matthew's chin. "The _drama_. No, darling, when we fight, we do it _properly_. When you're trying to uphold a oppressive system by opposing my just fight for the liberation of society's unwanted. Not for this. Not to kidnap two little girls because their father happens to be the CEO of Booker and Stone." 

Matthew grunted. Kidnapping. That made sense as a motive. Booker and Stone was one of those big companies that owned half the world. Valuable kids. "Paperwork's gonna be a bitch on this one," he muttered, mostly to himself. 

"You didn't even know, did you? Who their daddy was? You just saw kids you needed to protect. That's why I like you so much, Matthew. You're a good man. It's too bad you've sold your soul to uphold the authoritarian state."

Matthew shook his head. "Better than trying to burn the world down." It was an old argument, and he didn't have any hope of winning it this time. 

"Have a little faith! I'm more strategic than that, my dear. You'll see." Smokeshade shrugged. "Or you won't. I hope you do, though." His voice was strangely wistful at the end, and he sounded young. 

Matthew had never had a firm grip on Smokeshade's age, but—early twenties, probably. He had that energy. He had come on the scene just a couple years ago, quick and clever and determined to topple power to build something better. It was an idealistic sort of show. His methods were fucked, but Matthew had to admire his spirit. Admired _him_ , really. Of all the villains and heroes that wound their way through New Polis, Smokeshade was the one that cared the most about collateral damage. 

Just last week there had been a major fight between the Great Powers that Be that had toppled a retirement home before the fighting moved offshore. Matthew had been there, trying to coordinate the desperate dig through the rubble, when he had been grabbed and quite literally whisked around a corner, finding himself face to face with Smokeshade. 

"There's seven still alive, but they're failing fast. They're in the northeast corner of the building. I can get them out fast enough, but only if some harebrained officer with more bullets than since doesn't shoot at me as soon as I start moving. They won't hit me, of course," he said with his customary arrogance, "but they might hit Granny, and that would be a shame." 

"I'll fake a lifesign on the opposite side of the building," Matthew had said without hesitation. And sure enough, five minutes after he had gotten the area cleared, there was a tap on his shoulder, a grey blur, and seven shaky but alive elderly people now blinking at him, confused, on a streetcorner. 

Smokeshade was definitely a criminal, but he wasn't a villain, as near as Matthew could tell. 

"Thank you," he said before Smokeshade could disappear again. 

"For saving your life? Don't get used to it, handsome, but you're welcome anyway." Smokeshade winked and waggled his fingers at Matthew, slowed down enough that Matthew could catch the gesture. 

Matthew shook his head a little. "For that, and…last week." Matthew darted a look over at the safe room door, hoping that was enough to warn Smokeshade not to incriminate them. Then Matthew inclined his head, a show of respect.

Smokeshade blurred out of existence, then reappeared right in front of Matthew, grabbing the front of Matthew's shirt. Another blurred shift, and his head was next to Matthew's ear. "Thank _you_ for trusting me enough to let me save them. We're on the same side when it comes to the innocent. If you ever want to explore a more direct way of helping them, quit the force. You're a wonderful enemy, but you'd make a better partner." 

And then Smokeshade turned his head, so those lips that had been whispering near Matthew's ear were pressed against the soft join of jaw and neck. Matthew shuddered, he should stop this, he was probably twice the kid's age, he should just move away. Move away any second now… 

Matthew's hand came up to close over Smokeshade's hand on his shirt, squeezing slightly. 

"Mmm," Smokeshade purred, and then he whispered again, "Or we could have a different sort of fun, I suppose. Not now, though. I'd best let you go so you can let the darling heiresses out of their cage and let them know the brave police officer saved the day. But I will see you again, darling. Soon. And maybe we'll continue this _fascinating exchange._ " 

And then Matthew's hand was jerked back, and Smokeshade blurred out of the room again, and was gone. 

Matthew shook his head and ran his fingers through his hair as he stared out the doorway where Smokeshade had vanished. Right. He was too fucking old for this. 

He could still feel the ghost of a kiss lingering along his jaw as he made his way back to the safe room door, and called, "I think we're clear, but let me sweep the place and get some backup, just to be safe." 


End file.
